Youngest woke me up this morning with a hiss.
And prodded me hard.
'What do you want?' I asked, somewhat reasonably, I felt.
Considering the Rude Awakening.
'There is Something In My Bed and it Isn't Good,' he whispered.
Oh, Kerist, I thought. What in hell's name could THAT be.
I racked my sleepy brain for possible answers.
'Wee?' I asked, wearily, rubbing an eye awake.
He shook his head.
I rattled off the various bodily waste that a 'Not Good Thing' might be.
'Poo? Snot? Skin? Sweat?'
'Nope,' he replied to each in turn, getting noticeably more worried as the list went on. And on.
And finally, 'Mummy, it REALLY is Not A Good Thing.'
Said with great urgency and some degree of panic.
I cranked myself up onto one elbow and looked at him blearily.
'Is it something Dead?' I asked with some resignation. That would be 'Not Good'.
Having exhausted the potential horrors of what it might be, I decided that the only thing was to look for myself.
We entered the dark of his room, and I swished back the curtains. Blinking in the light, and screwing up my short sighted eyes, we looked together at the bed.
A Great Big Pile of Red Gloop wobbled shinily on the whiteness of his sheet.
'What the Bloody Hell is that?' I asked, in an Unedited type of way.
'That is The Not Good Thing in my bed,' answered Youngest, with his Clear Six Year Old Sightedness.
I poked it.
Straight out of a new toy recently acquired on his birthday. A hideous toy with an eye that you can squeeze right out of Said Toy's head.
Without another word we stripped the bed together, slung the oozing toy into the bin, and walked down the stairs towards the Kettle (for my much needed first cup of tea) and the Washing Machine.
'Sorry, Mummy,' said Youngest, as we pushed the gloopy sheet into the machine and switched it on.
'Don't worry about it,' said I, breezily. 'At least it wasn't Poo.'
And with that bright thought shining in our minds, we had breakfast.
PS. I am very aware of a Tag. Lurking. That I haven't done. Tags frighten me as am Total Crap at them.
But there is one Afoot, as it were, and I will drag it to the light of day just as soon as I have a moment to catch breath...